


Joyriding

by Stormendale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Sad Handjob, Songfic, based on a frnkiero andthe cellabration song, handjob, i listened to the song on repeat while i wrote this, joyriding, major character death is Dad Egbert, really sad au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormendale/pseuds/Stormendale
Summary: Songfic, based on Joyriding by frnkiero andthe cellabration. John is a wreck over the death of Dad Egbert, and continually goes to Draco Malfoy, of all people, for comfort. And for other things.





	Joyriding

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this sad handjob fic for this rarepair of mine. Comment if you liked it... or if you didn't. I crave acknowledgment lmao

John Egbert, a proud Gryffindor, somehow found himself sneaking into the Slytherin common room late at night, and this wasn’t the first time.

He was in his fifth year, he was a subpar wizard, and he saw nothing in his future. When he had received his Hogwarts letter at eleven years old, his dad had been so proud. He wanted the best for his son, so he sent him to Hogwarts. John had a relative in England who was a Muggle-born wizard like himself and was sent to go live with him.

The day after he left, his dad was killed.

It was like a bad movie. Walking home with the groceries, he was stabbed and robbed, bleeding out on the pavement until someone found him.

Everything had still been feeling surreal for John. In the course of a couple days finding out he was a wizard, moving across the ocean, and dealing with the death of his only family member and the loss of contact with his only friends.

He became a shell of who he once was. His eccentric wizard uncle meant well, but he always ended up upsetting John more than consoling, so he tended to stay at Hogwarts on the holidays.

Draco had gravitated toward John for whatever reason. Maybe they were just both miserable. Maybe Draco saw the Slytherin in John. For whatever reason, Draco started bugging the somber, droopy-eyed Gryffindor until them being together was a welcome routine when his life felt like it was slipping away from him.

Draco obviously had his own issues, but they never talked about them. Neither of them knew how. Their connection was based on anything but words. John’s emotions were volatile and unpredictable, and many a time he had broken down over the mere mention of shaving cream or tobacco pipes and Draco was there to hold him until he could find himself again.

The holidays were always the best of the worst times because it meant no sneering Slytherins to glare at him when he had a hard time not crying constantly anyway, and it meant no classes to take away from his time with Draco.

When he needed an escape, he always slipped into the Slytherin boys’ dormitories, and Draco was always already awake and willing to drown out his own problems with John’s tears. John was glad to be his distraction.

Then there was the sex.

It was their words. John couldn’t have explained it to someone else, nor would he have dared to try, but though neither of them knew anything about the other because they barely talked, they knew each other intimately.

One night, John had found himself lying in bed in Gryffindor tower and trying to breathe, and then having too much breath and filling up with it, choking on it. He needed Draco to take his breath away again.

Like so many other nights, he slipped into Draco’s bed.

“Bad night?” Draco mumbled.

“Is there ever a good one?” _Is there ever a sentence I utter to you that doesn’t sound like tears will follow?_

“No,” he conceded. “But I can make it go away for a little while.”

A little while was all John needed. The first kiss of the night happened, and John felt the relief of a drug addict shooting up after a few days of being sober.

They kissed like they’d both die if they let go, but it wasn’t frantic. John savored the taste of Draco’s mouth, and it wasn’t a particular taste anyone would recognize, but it was one hundred percent Draco and he would know it anywhere. He tried to memorize how strong and sturdy and totally alive Draco felt leaning over him.

Draco’s gangly hand caressed him, bringing attention to his chest, his ribs, his stomach, making him feel alive and wanted.

“Do you want me to touch you, love? You feel like you need it tonight.”

You feel like you need it. Draco could feel what he needed and sense what he wanted and he asked for permission anyway, and John couldn’t help but feel he didn’t deserve Draco. He nodded anyway.

Draco unbuttoned John’s pants, never taking his lips off of him. He went slow, running his hand slowly under John’s boxers, over his soft hip, massaging his bottom lovingly. John was getting aroused but it was mixed with so many of his other feelings that he couldn’t even enjoy it. He whimpered.

“Hey,” Draco said softly against his lips, bringing him back down to Earth. “Slow down. Breathe. Enjoy this.” Draco rarely talked at all during these times, so John was surprised.

“Okay.” He nodded, but he couldn’t help but start crying at the sight of his lover’s eyes.

_I don’t deserve you._

Draco sat up to grab his lotion from the bedstand, and John sat up, too. “Can you hold me while you do it?” John whispered.

“Of course.” Draco sat up against the headboard. The lotion was forgotten about for just a moment as John situated himself in front of Draco, pulling his pants and boxers down. He leaned into his strong chest as Draco kissed his neck slowly, trying to wind him down before they began. He wrapped one arm comfortingly around John after putting some lotion on his other hand.

They hadn’t done this in a while because it was rare that they were completely alone. They kissed all the time and the other Slytherins (at Draco’s coercion) and Gryffindors (begrudgingly) had accepted that by then.

This was different. This wasn’t just a distraction. It was a complete escape. John had never had a dad or a crazy uncle or a drinking problem as far as he was concerned. There was no one and nothing else in the whole world besides Draco.

He moved his hand confidently over John’s length, coaxing whimpers and gasps that to someone else may have sounded like exclamations of pain, but this was the only way John knew how to feel like this. It was instinctive. It was still better than anything else.

As he climaxed, he cried. He always did. The white-hot blinding pleasure was his emotional extreme and he needed to let this out.

Draco kissed his cheek, wet with tears, as he came. He wiped him off once he came down and John pulled his pants back up, too exhausted to button them. He curled up against Draco’s chest, wrapping both arms around him.

 _You’re the only good thing about me,_ John wanted to say.

 _I’m so in love with you,_ Draco wanted to say.

Neither of them said anything.


End file.
